Demographic experts now predict that by 2020*, white males will be in the minority in these United States of America. By 2050, white people will no longer be the majority race, although how the U.S. government tracks race is open to debate. By 2063, February 29th to be exact, white people will only be found in small enclaves surrounding suburban golf courses, working mostly as maintenance people for the non-whites who live in the gated communities. The whites will be standing on street corners waiting for trucks to take them to their daily jobs. As what’s-his-name said in Independence Day, “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it.” But I digress.
Back to this confusion about race. Hispanics (oops, sorry Latinos, although I can’t figure out the difference, since both refer to European colonial powers) are considered non-white by the U.S. census. Obviously, some Latinos are more black than white, but others are as white as Paris Hilton, although better dressed.
Why Latinos have options on the U.S. census forms while people such as myself do not is something that Barney Frank should be investigating instead of worrying about the Big Three in Detroit. I mean, he can’t check queer just as I can’t check “agnostic Jew” or “unrepentent 60s hippie.” And what about Lithuanians? Fair is fair, I say.
Nonetheless, at some point, America will no longer be the land of Wonder Bread and Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, although one can only pray that Jameson Irish whiskey will still be available. As a good liberal, I am willing to accept these changes, mostly because I’m old enough that by the time they’re in full force, I’ll be dead.
But one insidious threat is worming its way through the fabric of not only America but also the entire world. This uncontrolled bastardization of our most basic needs is the harbinger of doom, a challenge that can only be called The Non-White Man’s (& Woman’s) Burden.
You must know of what I speak: fusion food. If I want tacos, I’ll go to Taco Bell, but when I go to a fine restaurant and find that Mexican spices and foods have wormed their way into some of our most basic food groups, such as onion rings, I must raise my voice in protest – and in warning.
I don’t know what molé is, and I don’t want to know. Anything made from moles is disgusting, and I certainly don’t want a sauce made from rodents turning my chicken cordon blue into something brown and unappealing.
This mass confusion has even reached across the Atlantic (note to Sarah Palin: that’s an ocean off the right coast of the U.S.) to, gasp, France (Gov. Palin, that’s a country, sort of.) Famous French chefs have become enamored of fusing Japanese cuisine with their own. Imagine, fois gros sushi, boeuf bourguignon with a piquant sauce of blowfish innards, espresso tea…the horrors are endless.
This viral threat will soon envelop the world. The Chinese will be offering egg roll hot dogs, Kung Pau BBQ Chicken, and Egg Drop Meatball soup.
Where are the voices rising in protest? Does no one else see the hand of God in all this? Am I alone in having recognized that God’s vengeance is once again being thrust upon the people of Earth? Having failed to destroy humanity with the Tower of Babel, S/He is now embarked on establishing the Cuisine of Babel, a dastardly plot that will leave people confused and uncertain about their cultural heritage. Recipes handed down from grandmother to mother to daughter (or, in the case of modern white married males, grandmother to mother to son), these honored remembrances of times past will become amusing relics of a bygone era.
Ah, the well-known slippery slope, domino theory, and endless journey: When all people eat the same, all will begin to dress the same, think the same, act the same. Diversity will be a thing of the past. The NAACP, La Rasa, Hadassah, and The Muslim Brotherhood will be remembered only by those who have lost their jobs when the funding evaporated and the doors closed.
There is, alas, little that white people — doomed to minority status — can do to avert this looming disaster. It falls to non-whites to assume the burden of sustaining cultural and personal diversity. Should you fail, you’ll wind up savoring a hollow majority victory.
Some of you blinded by your own distorted taste buds may reject the above thesis, so I leave with one final, undeniable, indisputable proof: Our first fusion president, Barack Obama.
*All dates approximate…or wrong.
In Jameson VeritasPowered by Sidelines